A Pureblood Wedding
by TnT6713
Summary: Your name is Regulus Black and you're sick of waiting. You want to get married. Gwenog/Regulus. Angst/Fluff? Actually it's more like a little bit of fluff and then a whole bunch of angst. Well, more tragedy than angst.


Black tuxedo.

You straighten your bowtie, hands shaking. Your father smiles at you, smoothing back your hair, so proud. He tells you he loves you, and his voice sounds far away, diluted, as if he's under water. You smile at him. Today's the day, he tells you. The day you finally become a man.

The edges of the room are blurred, but you don't care. You're looking at the door. It looks solid. You hope it feels solid. You walk towards it, but you don't feel yourself moving. The white wood is just coming towards you, as if you can actually reach out and touch it.

The doorknob feels like water vapor, and you struggle to find a solid grip on the metal. Pulling the door open, you find yourself standing at the altar. You remember having walked up the lily-lined aisle, surrounded by the dizzying, bleached smiles of your numerous relatives. Your friends—_coworkers_—are there, too. They're happy for you. They're so happy.

You remember meticulously setting up the clean white benches, arranging dangerously pink stargazer lilies into bouquets because you know she loves them. You remember thick white invitations and swirling emerald calligraphy. You remember the proposal. You remember her crying.

You remember it all.

Or maybe, you don't remember it at all. You just imagine you do.

You look around at the garden around you. Your backyard has never looked so bright and clean. It's not your backyard; it shouldn't be your backyard. The trees are wrong. It's too big. There are too many flowers. It shouldn't be your backyard. But you know it is.

Your mind is swimming.

It must be the nerves, you tell yourself. But you don't know why you're nervous. She loves you. She wants this. You both want this. This will be good for you. You've won the war. You're happy. You can have a family. You and her, together, forever.

It's perfect.

Something stirs, as if there's music playing, but you don't quite hear it. You just know it's there. It's supposed to be there.

She steps out onto the aisle, seemingly out of nowhere. The sleek white silk of her dress flows out behind her and you swear she looks like a goddess or a mermaid and she's smiling at you, positively glowing. This, _this_ is why you love her. She smiles at you like you're the only two people in the world, and for a moment, you swear you are. Everyone else has blurred and faded and you know they're there but you're the only two left. Everything is her, always her, only her.

She's standing beside you now, and nothing's clear but the shimmer in her eyes, the faintness of her freckles, the smile tugging at her lips.

She's perfect.

She's yours.

"_Do you, Regulus Black, take Gwenog Jones to be your wife?"_

You do. God, yes, you do.

"_Do you, Gwenog Jones, take Regulus Black to be your husband?"_

She does. Thank God, she does.

You smile at her and she smiles back and it hits you then, it finally hits you. She's yours, and nobody else's. You can have her and only her forever. She loves you and you love her and you will never understand why she chose you but you are _so_ glad she did. She could have had anybody. This girl could have had anybody, and she chose you.

You don't know if you ever believed in luck before, but you sure as Hell believe in it now.

"_You may kiss the bride."_

You do. You kiss her and it's soft and controlled and dizzying and she feels like she's slipping away, fading under your touch. It's like she's not real, she's not here, and _no,_ you won't let her go. You won't let her slip away. You've only just got her.

She's yours. You won't let her fade away now.

* * *

You wake suddenly, your eyes flying open in the sudden chill. The blanket around you is heavy, as if it's trying to keep you there. It doesn't want you to leave. She doesn't want you to leave.

You struggle to sit up, your muscles stiff. It's late. Or maybe it's early; you can't quite tell. The clock ticks loudly, causing you to jump in surprise. Half past four. It's early.

Stifling a yawn, you know you won't be able to fall back asleep. You toss the duvet off of your body and slide out of bed, careful not to wake her. You grab a small velvet box from the drawer of your nightstand, tucking it into your pocket as your feet meet the floor.

The smooth wood is cold beneath your toes, and you thank innumerable deities that it doesn't creak under your weight.

You trudge down the stairs to the kitchen and almost fall into a chair at the head of the table. You fish the box out of your pocket and place it on the table in front of you, the red velvet far too bright in the dim room.

You sigh. A large mug of tea slides into view and you look up at the expecting face of your dearest friend. He smiles at you, a stupid, crooked smile that really ought to be a grimace. But there's a softness to it and you smile back, quietly thanking him and taking the warm mug into your hands.

"Thanks, Kreacher."

"Master Regulus has no reason to thank Kreacher."

You smile, bringing the mug to your lips, and take a sip. "No, really. Thank you."

"Master Regulus looks troubled. Kreacher can help."

You sigh, replacing the mug in your hands with the small red box. You nervously turn it, sliding your fingers over the soft fabric. You want to be careful with it, knowing what's inside, but it's too early to be careful. You're too nervous.

"I don't want to wait anymore, Kreacher. I want to marry her. I've been waiting and waiting to ask her for so long, and… I don't want to wait anymore. I've just been so busy with work and trying to take the Dark Lord down and running away from what I signed up for…" You look up, studying him. "You know what we have to do, don't you?"

"Yes, Master Regulus," he nods. "Kreacher knows of the plan."

"You remember where the cave is?"

"Yes, Master Regulus."

"And you can take me there?"

"Yes, Master Regulus."

"You have the locket, as well? So we can replace the Horcrux and destroy it and ultimately destroy the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, Master Regulus."

"Give it to me. And grab me some parchment and a quill."

"Yes, Master Regulus."

You open the box. A diamond ring smiles back at you, simple and elegant and clean. You run your finger over the engraving on the inside.

_My darling Gwenog._

Kreacher pads back into the kitchen, depositing the locket and a quill on the table along with a small black inkwell. You place the ring back in its box, gingerly closing the lid, and pick up the quill.

You uncork the inkwell and dip the quill inside. After a moment's contemplation, you pull the parchment towards yourself and begin to write.

_To the Dark Lord,_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

You fold up the parchment, placing it inside the locket. You take a deep breath. You don't know how much time has passed since that dream you had. What was it about? You can't remember. But it was nice. You remember liking that dream. You wanted it to be real.

If only you could remember it.

"Master Regulus?"

You look up, a decision shining in your eyes.

"I want to be gone before she wakes up."

Kreacher nods. "Yes, Master Regulus."

You forget about the mug on the table, leaving your tea to get cold.

* * *

You struggle to keep your head above the icy water, your fingers attempting to find something to hold onto, but there are arms, hands, bodies grabbing you, pulling you farther and farther away from your goal.

Hot tears prick your eyes, and you finally accept the fate that is coming to you.

"Kreacher," you manage to croak, fighting against the sea of corpses.

"Yes, Master Regulus?"

"Tell Gwen I love her. And tell her I'm sorry."

He pauses. He doesn't want you to go.

"Yes, Master Regulus."

A loud crack, and he's gone.

You take one final gulp of air as the hands find success in pulling you into the icy abyss.

You welcome the darkness with open arms.


End file.
